


antipathetic field

by penhaligon



Series: Watcher Kit [11]
Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23642446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penhaligon/pseuds/penhaligon
Summary: Aloth encounters an oddly familiar stranger while tracking the Leaden Key across the Deadfire.
Relationships: Aloth Corfiser & The Watcher
Series: Watcher Kit [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1271783
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	antipathetic field

_**Antipathetic Field:** Creates a toxic physical manifestation of the mutual antipathy between the cipher and the enemy target. _ _Enemies caught in the path between the two will suffer corrosive damage._

* * *

The woman at the adra vein was alone, and that by itself was a sign that this was not going to go as the Leaden Key assassins expected.

From his position concealed in the thicket nearby, Aloth hesitated. He hadn't gotten here nearly fast enough, but he was struck with the abrupt sense that it didn't matter. Iselmyr, lurking close to the surface of his thoughts with a battle at hand, agreed without protest, and that was a sign all on its own.

Aloth had his grimoire open and ready, but he waited and watched, reminding himself to trust in his -- and Iselmyr's -- instincts. Signs of research marked the clearing in which the vein sprouted, too much to have been left behind by one person, but Aloth was sure that no one else was nearby, save for himself and the woman and the assassins creeping in. The woman was crouched down beside the vein with a hand resting upon it, examining it and seemingly unaware of what approached, even though she was, supposedly, a cipher.

Aloth was suddenly dead certain that he did not want to get too close to whatever was about to happen.

But Leaden Key assassins typically had no such reservations. They had their assignment and their mark, and to fail was discouraged, to say the least. Aloth had learned that it often led to frequent cycling within the organization, and he knew, in the moment before they struck, that today would mark yet another turn of that particular wheel.

He only really processed it after the fact: the whistle and crack of bolt and bullet, enough to overwhelm one person, except the air _shivered_ , and the glow of the vein doubled. The trajectory of the projectiles shifted just enough to sail past their target unharmed, and there were a few gasps from the trees where the doomed assassins were hidden.

Aloth had seen a cipher deflect with an enemy's drained essence before, had seen how the air warped with it, but never at that distance and intensity. Before he could make sense of it, the woman straightened to full height, though she kept a hand pressed against the vein. Now Aloth was paying attention to her in particular, and now he saw the way her fingers arched, the way the bracelets at her wrists crackled and glowed, the way the adra responded.

He expected some kind of wave of force to radiate from her, of the kind that ciphers could easily manifest, but instead the air warped again, and choked cries accompanied the hiss of electricity. Calmly, removing her hand from the vein, the woman scooped up a nearby crossbow and unloaded four bolts into the trees around her, in the bored manner of someone who had better things to do.

Aloth could only blink at the sight for half a moment, as Iselmyr seized him with the desire to whistle appreciatively. He pushed her aside, his mind racing, because there were supposed to be five assassins, and yet...

He spun around and brought his grimoire up, just as the sound of rustling cloth registered and something dark moved in the trees behind him, but a quick Arcane Assault had been waiting on his tongue. Iselmyr's essence flared angrily within him, and as the arcane bolt struck the assassin, Aloth wasn't sure whether it was him or Iselmyr who stepped forward and brought the grimoire back around with a vegeance, slamming the now-gleaming tome into the off-balance figure and sending them sprawling.

The figure -- an aumaua man, Aloth could now see -- was out cold, and Aloth hesitated. Not because he was in a particularly merciful mood, but because it occurred to him that more could be learned from leaving one alive, with a cipher nearby.

Aloth turned back around and froze when he found the tip of a sword against his neck.

The woman was just as described by the Leaden Key report that he'd intercepted. Wood elf and getting on in years, with hair so blonde that it was almost white and a large scar running down the left side of her pale face. Her eyes were similarly pale, a cold blue that regarded Aloth critically. What the report hadn't mentioned was a name or other identifying details, but Aloth's eyes were immediately drawn to the assortment of jewelry that adorned the woman: a necklace, a pair of earrings, and a few bracelets on each arm, as well as a pin in the shape of Galawain's dog-head mark attached to her tunic.

All of it was adra-based jewelry, in variations of green and blue and white, delicately affixed with small and complex and clearly animantic arrays of copper. But the sword pressed unwavering against Aloth's neck, just shy of slicing him open, and his thoughts didn't linger on the jewelry for long. He clutched at his grimoire but made no move to use it.

 _Would nae cross that'un,_ Iselmyr said, a tense rumble at the base of his neck, ready to launch herself forward if it came down to a fight. For once, Aloth found himself in complete agreement with her.

Iselmyr fell away suddenly with a faint surge of surprise, as Aloth had the sense of something else passing through his mind, rifling and intrusive. He swallowed, the only movement he dared, but a moment later, the sword dropped away. The woman sheathed it and stepped back, giving him a nod.

"Sorry about that," she said in Aedyran, nothing apologetic in her tone. "Wouldn't be the first time they've tried to get me by playing passer-by."

Aloth thought the accent might have been a faded sort of Glanfathan. Instinctively, he reached up to rub at his throat, but his fingers couldn't find a scratch. It would have required an absolutely precise amount of control, and he tried not to shudder as Iselmyr resurfaced, grumbling and suspicious. "Actually, I came to help," Aloth said, tucking his grimoire under his arm. "But I see now that there was no need."

The woman wore a smile that was not particularly friendly. There was a strange familiarity to the sight, something recognizable in the way she moved, though Aloth was sure that he had never seen her before.

"Oh, you helped a bit," the woman said, stepping past Aloth towards the unconscious assassin. She looked at the body like she could see into its depths, and something about the expression on her face then was equally familiar. "This one was going to come at me while his fellows were in their death throes. You made for a nice distraction." A sneer curled across her mouth she stared down at the assassin. "They're resorting to suicide missions now. Lovely."

It did nothing to make Aloth feel at ease with the situation. Four assassins had thrown their lives away, just to kill one woman? A woman who spoke like this had happened before, enough that she appeared decidedly unimpressed with it?

The woman gazed down at the unconscious body a moment longer, then removed a dagger from her belt and crouched. Aloth looked away from the quick slice of metal against throat, and when he returned his attention to the scene, the woman stood tall again, wiping the dagger down. Her eyes snapped to him, searching, and Aloth drew himself up under her gaze. Being scrutinized by many a teacher was a thing of the distant past, and yet, for a moment, his head was full of memory.

"You aren't Leaden Key," the woman said. "Not anymore."

There was no hiding things from a cipher, Aloth supposed. Not all of them were as mindful as Kit. He cleared his throat. "No," he said cautiously, and his eyes didn't quite follow the dagger or linger on the two swords that the woman had strapped to her back, but he was keenly aware of their positions. Iselmyr and her mistrust still hovered close and ready. "I realized the error of my ways several years ago, and I've been... making amends since then. I discovered a plot to assassinate you and thought to intervene." He dipped his head, fighting back a blush. He clearly hadn't been needed. "Aloth Corfiser, at your service."

The woman sheathed her dagger once more. "The effort is appreciated," she said, and then she tapped at her head. Once again, Aloth was struck with that sense of familiarity, and his eyes went to the woman's necklace, to the earrings and the bracelets. The woman had avoided offering her name, but suspicion flared within him as his mind jumped from connection to connection. "Overheard one of them lurking about and spying a few days ago, and knew it was coming." She scoffed like it was merely an inconvenience.

"If I may ask," Aloth said, following the trail of suspicion taking root in his mind, "how did you handle the other four? I assume you utilized adra beneath us as a conduit?"

The woman's eyes immediately took on a sheen of interest. "Yes," she said thoughtfully, studying him in a way that made his skin itch. She fell silent for a long moment, and Aloth tried not to shift under her gaze. "If those fools spent less time suppressing knowledge, they might have known that adra grows like an iceberg. They were kind enough to stand right on top of it for me." The way she said it made Aloth think that she had put that notion into their heads, planting a simple inclination to stop right where she needed them to. He'd seen that before, too. "How did you know?"

"It was merely a hunch," Aloth said. For reasons that belonged more to instinct than anything, he wasn't sure if he wanted to pursue the line of intuition any further, at least not when it came to revealing more about himself -- or with whom he made his acquaintance. His judgment hadn't been wrong today.

 _Might be time tae git ready, laddie,_ Iselmyr said, with a thrum of anticipation, and none of it boded well for how much Aloth could really trust this woman.

"Hmm," the woman said, bored and toneless, and she stepped past him again, towards the clearing and the adra vein looming above them. "Ever met a cipher before?"

Aloth followed her movements but remained rooted where he was, in order to put distance between them. "I've known a few," he said, and his stomach sank, cold and wary. He hadn't been able to lie to Kit, either, not really.

"Ever seen one use adra to channel her powers?" the woman asked, scooping up the discarded crossbow to inspect it. She unloaded the next bolt from its cocked position, as if to remind Aloth that she didn't need an ordinary weapon to kill. She was turned away from him, as if putting her back to him was of no concern to her.

"I... can't say that I have," Aloth said, knowing the words were useless even as they left his mouth, and he shoved Iselmyr down when she flooded him with the instinct to ready his grimoire. He shouldn't have said anything about the adra, shouldn't have followed the trail of this woman's familiarity, because all it had done was bring thoughts to the surface where they were more easily overheard by a cipher's ears. He should have excused himself and left as soon as he knew that the woman could handle herself, and not let curiosity get the better of him, but there was no use in starting a fight now.

The woman turned, unloaded crossbow in hand, her adra earrings swinging with the movement. Jewelry wasn't a practical accessory for a fighter, like this woman clearly was -- unless it served a deadlier purpose. "That's because most don't," she said, very pointedly. "Takes a special kind of study. An _understanding_ that most aren't privy to."

Aloth considered explaining himself, because she was going to find out either way if she wanted to, but he couldn't bring himself to let the words pass his lips. It felt too much like a betrayal, and at the very least, he could say that he hadn't willingly given up information on Kit.

Iselmyr once again tried to surge forth, and once again she was pushed aside as the woman's attention fixed piercingly on Aloth, as something _else_ entered his thoughts. Where before it had been the barest touch, of a kind that someone with a less disciplined mind might not have even noticed, this one was overpowering, yanking forth a torrent of thought that flashed in quick succession without Aloth's input or control, in the manner of a tide rising and drowning him.

Kit's face was in his mind, as clear as if he'd only seen her yesterday, and then Caed Nua the day he'd left, and then further back, to Thaos, and Sun in Shadow, and Twin Elms, and Defiance Bay, and Kit through it all, though Aloth's thoughts -- or the ethereal hand ransacking them -- quickly veered back around to Thaos, to the Leaden Key, alighting on all that Aloth had learned at Kit's side. Shock that was not his own rocked through him, and then Aloth's head was above water again.

He blinked down at the ground and realized that he had fallen to his knees. Grimacing, taking deep breaths, he pushed himself to his feet and felt no different than he had a minute ago. Not physically, at least.

 _Sorry, lad,_ Iselmyr's voice said at the back of his mind, and only her voice was soft. The rest of her was champing at the bit, ready to tear into the woman before them. _Ye alright?_

It wasn't often that Aloth was intensely grateful for her mulish presence, for the fact that it meant he was never alone. _I'm fine,_ he said, and it didn't mean that he _was_. It just meant that he didn't wish to address it.

Aloth's heart pounded, and it took all of his willpower not to flinch away from the woman before him, but he wouldn't give her that satisfaction. He didn't think she'd notice right now, however. He took what satisfaction of his own that he could, from the fact that it was her who stepped back away from him, the crossbow slipping out of her hands. The woman's face had gone slack with astonishment, and for a moment, she only stared at him, eyes wide, all traces of smug superiority gone.

Then something dark flashed across her face, and she looked down, ripping the dog's head pin off of her tunic. She held it in her open palm, her lips curling back in a smile that wasn't a smile, and it was Kit's smile. It looked _wrong_ on this woman's face, and the notion that Kit was in any way connected to her was _wrong_ , but Aloth could see it clearly now: the angry smile, and the languidly threatening movements, the adra jewelry, and the powers that unnerved and overwhelmed in turn.

"He hasn't spoken to me in years," the woman said, her voice the kind of soft that concealed deadly edges beneath, as she gazed down at Galawain's dog-head. Dherys, Aloth thought, affixing name to person, because he could vividly recall the conversations he'd had with Kit a few years ago, the halting way she'd described a little of her childhood for him. Dherys the Iconoclast, exile of Eir Glanfath, and even the unflappable Hiravias had been left perturbed to learn that their Watcher was connected to such a person.

Dherys's fingers closed around the pin, and essence flared, a wisp only just visible in Aloth's direct gaze. When Dherys opened her fingers again, the adra and copper that made up the dog's head was cracked and crumbling. "Didn't like that I was getting close to a truth best kept hidden, huh? Let the servants of your rotten fucking cohort try to kill me instead?" The remnants of the pin trickled down between her fingers to the ground. "Go fuck yourself, Seeker."

It was, unfortunately, an understandable anger, though it had not been any faith or god that Aloth had been forced to reevaluate -- at least, none that he was aware of at the time. But the manner in which Dherys rejected her god was brutally short. As soon as the last of the pin's remains had trickled to the ground, she took a breath and smoothed out her expression, looking back up at Aloth with a final shake of her head.

"So," Dherys said, "a Watcher and a thaynu and a Builder, and she killed that long-lived rat." Another smile flickered across her face, this one closer to the real thing, as if caught up in some private joke, and with an honest pride layered over it all, one that Aloth hated to see. "That's my girl."

"Her accomplishments have nothing to do with you," Aloth said, cold and defensive. It wasn't the kind of apology that he could deliver through a letter. He'd have to wait until he saw Kit in person again, to tell her how sorry he was for letting her mentor lay hands on information about her. Dherys now knew where Kit _lived_ , and it was Aloth's fault.

Dherys chuckled. "Where do you think her powers would be without me?" she asked, and before Aloth could argue, she turned renewed interest on him, as if reevaluating him in a new light as well. "I didn't know Nadia was in the habit of making friends."

Aloth's -- Iselmyr's -- hands tightened around the grimoire, and Aloth forced his fingers to relax. "Her name is Kit. And you're going to leave her alone, or--"

"Or what?" Dherys asked mockingly, and the adra at her ears and neck and throat all flashed, her eyes taking on a ghostly purple shine for a moment. "You'll stop me? I'd love to hear how you plan to do that."

Iselmyr wanted to lunge, and Aloth was sorely tempted to let her. He didn't. Only his jaw twitched as his teeth ground together.

Dherys laughed again, with that not-a-smile so eerily reminiscent of Kit's, even though they didn't share blood or race or much at all in appearance. "I'm not going to bother her," she said, and though her voice was as light as ever, something about it seemed faintly bitter, now. "She left. I won't waste my time chasing after a wayward child. And she'd never forgive me if I hurt one of her _friends_ , so I'll thank you not to force my hand."

Reluctantly, Aloth released his tight hold on the grimoire. In truth, he wasn't sure what he'd hoped to achieve, but the idea that he could have set this woman on Kit's trail was unacceptable. The idea that he'd helped her at all was increasingly detestable, and it was like she knew, when she gave him a dismissive wave and a wink.

"Thanks for the information," Dherys said. "And your help. Tell _Kit_ that I'm proud of her."

Aloth didn't know where his desire to argue the point ended and Iselmyr's began, but it brought her fully forth in a rush of fury. "Ye've no right tae et, ye hag."

Dherys only kept up an infuriating smile, observing Aloth like he was a specimen. "Aren't you interesting?" she said, as Aloth wrestled Iselmyr back, lest she goad a fight into happening anyway. "That passenger of yours resisted well. A bit of formal training, and she could probably keep someone like me out of your head."

Iselmyr subsided reluctantly, quieting like she knew that it would be a losing fight, which was ominous enough on its own. But Aloth couldn't quite keep his own tongue still, either. "She has a point," he said, acerbic. "What did _you_ do to reach the heart of Engwith, exactly?"

 _I ken how et is,_ Iselmyr grumbled. _Ye git tae mouth off an' not me._

It knocked the smile off of Dherys's face, and her ice blue eyes narrowed. She regarded him silently for another long moment, her lips curling back into something more like a snarl. "Run along now, boy," she said, soft and friendly and yet neither of those things, just like Kit. "Before I _really_ make Nadia hate me."

It was no empty threat, either, but Aloth took a few steps back with the satisfaction of knowing that it was possible to get under her skin too, even if not to the same degree that a cipher could. Dherys watched him, her expression cool and unreadable, before she turned away dismissively and returned her attention to the adra vein that towered above them.

 _Her back's turned,_ Iselmyr said, bloodthirsty.

 _No, it isn't,_ Aloth said, resigned, and he picked his way back through the jungle towards the nearest settlement, his steps heavy with the weight of a day wasted and a friend failed.

* * *

Kit didn't press the issue, when Aloth told her that he needed a little more time to gather his thoughts. She gave him a curious look and let the matter drop with an easy smile, like she trusted him to come forth with it when he was ready. It was as if they'd only seen each other yesterday, not five years ago, and back then, too, Kit had shown an inclination towards trusting him when others might not. 

Of course, she _would_ know whether that was wise or not, better than most. Not once had Aloth seen her fall for someone's tricks or lies -- not even his, as he'd learned. The memory of Defiance Bay after the riots was as clear as if that had only been yesterday too. How Kit had undone the terror of admitting a late and terrible truth, with a smile -- a real one -- and a small laugh and a reminder that of course she knew he’d been hiding things. Of course she knew he'd never meant her harm.

Aloth knew, too, that she could easily pull the information out of his mind, and while he knew that she would never, the possibility still floated to the surface of his thoughts, fresh on memory's heels. _That_ was not something he wanted to sit on, particularly not if Kit was turning her focus to the Deadfire's adra, and so Aloth caught her arm before she headed back to the deck.

"There is something you need to know," he said, and Kit arched her eyebrows at him, but he shook his head. "Perhaps we could discuss it somewhere more private?"

"Sure," Kit said, and she led him to the captain's cabin. It was a modest affair, but already strewn with the usual mess that seemed to grow around Kit as soon as she settled down for longer than a few days. Aloth smiled a bit at the sight of scattered papers and instruments and a cat already lounging about, which hissed and disappeared under the bed as soon as they entered. So much had changed, but some things about Kit were reassuringly constant.

"What's wrong?" Kit asked, her eyes keen with concern, as soon as Aloth had shut the door behind them.

Aloth sighed. "Perhaps we could sit as well?"

It was eminently comfortable to sit side-by-side with her again, as Kit settled on the edge of the bed, drew a leg under her, and patted the spot beside her. But the familiarity of it, as fresh as yesterday, did little to ease Aloth's troubled thoughts as he sat. He spent a second ruminating on how best to approach the issue, while Kit waited patiently.

"Not long after I arrived in the Deadfire," Aloth began carefully, "I intercepted a missive detailing the target of an imminent Leaden Key assassination. Someone they considered quite dangerous had also recently arrived in the region. I thought to intervene, so I tracked her down. And that," he sighed again, "is how I became acquainted with your mentor.'

An alarmingly immediate change came over Kit. Where before she had been relaxed, open, surprisingly happy given the telltale thickness of her voice that spoke to exhaustion and illness both, every muscle in her body now tensed, poised and ready for a fight. Her face grew dark and stony, and the eyes that she locked on him were sharp and searching. They could see as deep as her mentor's could, if she ever wanted to look.

"Are you okay?" Kit asked, low and angry. "Did she hurt you?"

But that was the thing. Kit didn't want to. "Not physically, no," Aloth said, and it didn't stop his skin from crawling at the memory. "But I have found a greater appreciation for how much you hold back."

A phantom snarl flickered across Kit's face. She stood abruptly and paced the narrow length of the cabin, her hands clenching into fists. Her adra pendant glowed, and the sharp, acrid tinge of hatred radiated outward from her, so strong that Aloth felt it ripple through his thoughts like a passing shadow that shivered down his spine. It wasn't often that her emotions bled out from her like that. "I'm gonna kill her," Kit spat, as she turned on her heel to face Aloth again.

Aloth watched her with a tight knot twisting in his chest, woven out of warmth and consternation both. He'd forgotten how overprotective Kit could be, and it struck at a melancholy chord of something within him. Loneliness, maybe. In the five years since they'd parted, he hadn't spent longer than a few months in anyone else's company, and even with those he felt some fondness for, they rarely knew him for who he was. Not like Kit did.

But Aloth had underestimated just how upset Kit would be at the news. That he'd misjudged the potential severity of her reaction meant that he'd misjudged the extent of how affected she really was. "I'm fine, Kit," Aloth said quietly, earnestly, willing her to understand that, no matter how unpleasant an experience it had been, he could not be so badly hurt as Kit had been. "Truly."

The cold fury diminished somewhat, the glow of the pendant fading, but Kit did not sit down again. She was too twitchy now, still pacing erratically, but the look she gave him was softer than the anger. "I'm sorry," she said. "She's..."

"I should be the one to apologize," Aloth said, when Kit didn't finish the sentence, and he grimaced at the memory. At all of the memories that had come spilling forth, taken by the person that Kit had spent years trying to distance herself from. And yet in one ill-advised encounter, Aloth had ensured that the distance shrunk. "I'm afraid that she obtained a great deal of information about you. I wasn't able to stop her."

Kit shook her head at once. "Aloth, no," she said, and she made herself sit back down on the bed, so that she could reach out to him. That behavior was far less familiar, but Aloth let her take his hand, a little bemused. "That wasn't your fault. You don't have the training to throw off something like that. And she..." her brows drew together as the shadow passed through her face and thoughts again, "she does what she wants. That's not on you, alright?"

Aloth let out a slow breath. "I know," he said. It didn't change how heavy it sat on his shoulders. "Still, I am sorry." He squeezed her hand, cautious at first, but Kit didn't appear bothered by the prolonged contact, though she'd never been one for it before. Truth be told, neither was he, but at the moment, it was simply... nice. Perhaps he _had_ grown too lonely, Iselmyr and all-too-brief acquaintances aside. "Sorry for what you had to grow up with. I think I understand it a little better, now."

Kit gave him a wistful smile. "You've always understood," she said, quiet, and then she let loose a sigh and shrugged, extracting her hand in the process. "So, she knows about me? Good. Then she knows that I've killed worse things than her." She smiled again, and it was just like Dherys -- a smile that wasn't a smile, cold and bitter and full of violent promise. But it sat uneasily on Kit's face, like there was something hollow in her words. The sideways look that she sent in Aloth's direction didn't want to be hesitant, but it was. "What was she doing?"

"From what I understand," Aloth said, "she was investigating the local adra." The missive had said as much, though it had been lax on details, and Aloth hadn't paid particularly close attention to the observable research that had clearly been going on at the scene.

Kit didn't look surprised. "She never liked it when anyone in the Living Lands took too much of an interest in the adra there, either. Contaminating the evidence and all." It was barely a laugh that slipped out of her, but at least there was some genuine humor in it. "Too late to do anything about it, now that the world's got its eye on the luminous variant. If I was her, I'd start looking into how it reacts to contaminants." The not-quite-hesitant look returned as if drawn out of her, as if it had little choice in the matter -- a curiosity despite better judgment. "Was... that it?"

Aloth let a faint smirk cross his face, then. "You'll be pleased to know that the information she pulled out of my head also included Galawain's true nature."

The laugh that left Kit was real, this time, full of a caustic delight, and it did Aloth good to hear it. "Was she mad?"

"Very," Aloth said, only a little conspiratorial.

Kit rolled her eyes. "She used to think his silence meant that she had to find what she was seeking, first, before he would answer," she said. "I told her once that it was bullshit. She didn't like that." Some of Kit's humor faded, a reflective look settling in its wake. "But I think she always knew that he didn't approve. Honestly, I never really understood their relationship. Half the time it seemed like she just wanted to best him." Her eyes took on that gleam that Aloth remembered well, whenever Kit turned her thoughts towards grand ideas and discoveries. "And given what we know, I think that silence is all the proof we need. There _is_ something at Eora's heart that the gods don't want found."

Aloth didn't know if Kit noticed the _we_ that slipped out. He stepped delicately around it as he spoke, but curiosity tugged the words out. When he'd departed from Caed Nua, a fire had certainly been lit under Kit, though it had seemed like even she didn't quite know the direction in which it would spread. "I have to say, as formidable as your mentor is," Aloth said, without quite voicing the question, "I would still bet on you, if you intend to find it first."

Kit snorted, but something troubled settled between her eyes. "It's not even about that, really," she said, looking down at the floor. "It's more about... getting the pieces of a puzzle to fit together. We hold different pieces, you know? And so do others."

"I hope you're not thinking of seeking her out," Aloth said, delicate.

"You mean like you going back to Aedyr?" Kit asked, pointed.

Aloth found his fingers creeping down to tug at the edge of his jerkin. "That's not quite the same."

And then his mouth moved with an interjection of its own, a sensation to which Aloth was resigned. If asked, he would deny the fact that said resignation wasn't as begrudging as he might claim otherwise. Iselmyr, at least, was someone he didn't have to lie to, and it seemed that she had decided to return the favor, after a fashion. "Fye, don't listen to 'im. Lad's full'o shite," Iselmyr said, with a dismissive huff. "If ye tangle with that hag again, best bring us along. Am itching fer another round."

"You didn't actually fight her, did you?" Kit asked with some alarm.

"No," Aloth said firmly, pushing Iselmyr aside. It was a half-hearted attempt, and it didn't do much, but Iselmyr subsided for a moment nonetheless. "It was clearly a death wish, even before I knew who she was."

Kit looked mollified, and Iselmyr added, "It's good tae see ye, lass."

A warm smile replaced the last remnants of Kit's alarm, and Aloth realized that it was yet another small difference -- not overt, but noticeable, the longer they spent in company. Kit had been smiling a lot since they'd reunited, and most of it was sincere. "You too," Kit said. "Keeping him out of trouble?"

"Like et's me job," Iselmyr said confidently.

"Getting me into trouble, is more apt," Aloth added dryly.

It wasn't just the smiling. It was something in Kit's face, open and fond and crinkling the corners of her eyes as she gazed at Aloth. "Listen," she said, "don't worry about her having dirt on me, okay? If she shows up," Kit shrugged, an artificial informality to it, "I'll just kill her."

Aloth thought that was less of a joke than it sounded. He also thought that Kit didn't mean it as much as she wanted to. But all he said in response was, "Just be sure to save a piece for Iselmyr."

"Aye, now he's talking!" Iselmyr added.

At last, Aloth pushed her down, because enough was enough, and Iselmyr let him. When he returned his attention to Kit, she was watching him like she expected to have to argue the point, but Aloth wasn't going to contest it.

He appreciated that Kit was determined to see him rid of misplaced guilt, and that she didn't seem quite so plagued with that herself, these days. He appreciated how it felt to sit beside someone with whom he had no reason to lie or hide, and how simple it was to relax with her, even after five years. He'd been appreciating a great many things, since boarding _The Defiant_ , and perhaps that was something to consider: the sustainability of his endeavors in the long-term, if a mere few days in unfiltered company left him with little desire to return to them, let alone think about it enough to explain what he'd been up to in the interim.

"She did indicate that she had no desire to seek you out," Aloth said. "I... believe she was sincere." Difficult to tell, with someone like that, but for all of Dherys's smug posturing, he'd gotten the sense that perhaps she didn't want to invoke the wrath of her protege.

It was clear that the information didn't reassure Kit like he'd wanted it to, however. She merely frowned, her face closing off at last in that way that Aloth knew best, like the first signs of gray on a summer's day. Did she _want_ her mentor to show up?

"Then there's nothing to worry about," Kit said, giving him another smile, and this one didn't quite reach her eyes. But her voice was soft and insistent, and Aloth only nodded. Kit's shoulders settled decisively, and the storm cleared from her face. "It really is good to see you," she added.

Aloth didn't say anything further about the encounter, because Kit had never been shy about asking after what she wanted to know, and if she wasn't asking, he wouldn't offer. He certainly wouldn't pass on anything else Dherys had said. Instead, he took the cue and offered a smile himself. It wasn't one meant to deflect or conceal. Only to convey how much he meant the returned sentiment. "Likewise," he said. "Though I wish it was under better circumstances."

"Getting in the middle of divine bullshit isn't up to your standards?" Kit asked, deadpan, as she got to her feet and tipped her head in the direction of the deck.

"Most people visit Neketaka to relax or conduct business," Aloth said, smoothing out his jerkin as he stood. Kit didn't want condolences, and that was the same Kit he knew. "But I do believe I forgot who I was talking to, for a moment."

It was good to see the spark in Kit's eyes, the fierce little smile that wasn't quite happy but wasn't upset, either. It was familiar, and it meant that not even a soul ripped into pieces could dampen whatever drove her inexorably forward. It was infectious, too, because Aloth's feet didn't drag as he stepped forward, like his footsteps had been prone to as of late. Kit opened the cabin door and gave him a little mock bow as she waved him on. "Ready for round two?"

"Sadly, yes," Aloth sighed, and Kit laughed and followed him up to the deck.


End file.
